Chapter 17

Chapter 17. 5. The Doom of Darkness

The darkness hung thickly over the mountain.

A pursuit party of about ten men, holding torches, scoured the forest.

“This way! Over here!”

“We’ve found him!”

The light from the torches illuminated a man hiding in the forest. He appeared to be in his thirties, with a rather unimpressive appearance.

The man muttered darkly to himself.

“They’ve already caught up...”

The pursuers surrounded him and drew their swords.

A knight clad in armor engraved with the emblem of the sun emerged from the encirclement.

“O fallen necromancer.”

He was a crusader of the Latiel Church.

“Kneel before the goddess and seek her forgiveness!”

“Grrr...”

The man, who had been glancing around nervously, suddenly let out a ghastly roar.

“Uraaagh!”

Darkness surged around him.

The crusader shouted in alarm.

“Be careful! He’s summoning evil spirits again!”

The darkness transformed into five black specters, charging toward the encirclement.

However, the soldiers were not fazed. They had already faced these evil spirits in battle before.

“Futile!”

“For we are blessed by Latiel!”

The soldiers held up talismans of the Sun God with their left hands and began thrusting their swords with their right.

Normally, these spirits would ignore mere blades, but they flickered and weakened as they were struck.

Explosions resounded all around. The blessing of the talismans imbued the soldiers’ swords with the power to strike spiritual entities.

Yet, the spirits did not fall easily.

Though they wavered, they bound the soldiers in place, emitting wailing shrieks.

Aaaaargh!

In the midst of this, the man tried to flee once again. The crusader shouted and lunged forward.

“Do you think you can escape?”

The man suddenly placed both hands on the ground.

“Come forth, spirits!”

Three more streams of darkness surged and formed into spirits.

Seeing the spirits closing in from all sides, the crusader gripped his sword tightly.

“Do you still have this much power left?”

His sword began to glow, cutting through the spirits.

“Haah!”

The powers of the clergy who served Latiel, the Goddess of the Sun, were indeed the nemesis of necromancy.

It took him only about ten seconds to cut down all three of the spirits.

But it was enough time for the man to escape.

The crusader ground his teeth as he watched his opponent disappear into the depths of the forest.

“Hmph! You won’t get far, you filthy necromancer!”

* * *

Fred, the necromancer, gnashed his teeth as he raced frantically down the mountain path.

“Damn those dogs of the goddess...”

Just half a year ago, he had been a laborer living in the back alleys of Derat City, a northern trade town in the County of Chad.

It had been a hard life.

No matter how much he hauled and toiled all day, all he ever earned was mere pocket change.

His daily routine consisted of filling his stomach with coarse food and collapsing in a place worse than a stable, with his only joy being the occasional numbing of his brain with cheap liquor.

On that day as well, Fred had collapsed in the back alley, drunk as usual.

“Damn... this filthy world...”

Why was his life so miserable, while the nobles, simply by being born into good families, lived without ever knowing hardship?

“Should I just die...?”

He muttered the lament that had become a habit as he gazed up at the night sky.

That was when the darkness of the alley suddenly expanded and enveloped him. The darkness wrapped around him and began seeping into his entire body.

“Huh? What... what is this?”

At first, he was terrified. But the fear quickly faded away.

It wasn’t because the situation was no longer frightening, but rather because it felt as though the very emotion of fear itself was being numbed.

At the same time, he realized.

“This is...”

It was power.

It was authority, darkness, and death.

Even without anyone telling him, he instinctively understood.

It was the very power that all the sects of the continent loudly warned against, the power foretold by the Prophecy of Doom, the power of the end that was now surrounding him.

“Aaah...”

Fred, frozen like a corpse, let out a groan.

The wisdom of the darkness seeped directly into his soul.

It conveyed silent truths and demanded a choice.

If he turned away, the darkness would leave him, and he would return to his ordinary life.

If he wanted, he could gain this power. But in return, he would have to abandon the path of humanity.

He hadn’t formally studied necromancy, so he didn’t chant any incantations—truthfully, he didn’t know any.

He simply gritted his teeth and forcibly drew out his power.

“Graaah!”

The darkness surged, transforming into a horde of evil spirits.

There were nearly twenty of them. Fred was putting everything he had into this.

“Go, my spirits! Kill them all!”

The soldiers didn’t panic.

“Hah! The bastard’s making his last stand!”

“Futile!”

“Everyone, take out your protective talismans!”

They responded calmly, assuming their positions as trained, steadily confronting the situation.

Spears and swords, imbued with the priests’ blessings, continuously pierced and slashed through the horde of evil spirits.

“No, this can’t be...”

Fred was terrified. The spirits he had summoned with such effort were vanishing one by one.

Screams echoed from the evil spirits.

He ground his teeth.

If this continued, he would lose.

If this continued, he would be captured and sent to the pyre.

‘I can’t let that happen!’

Suddenly, Fred’s eyes rolled back. His irises disappeared, leaving only the whites, as a blood-red gleam burst from his eyes.

“Graaaah!”

A translucent figure surged up from beneath his feet.

A billowing, pale ghost shrieked as its tattered black robes fluttered in the air.

Screeeech!

The previously composed expression on Priest Rosso’s face turned grim.

‘That thing!’

The grayish apparition swept through the soldiers, causing the protective talismans of Lathiel to explode simultaneously.

“Gah!”

“The talismans!”

The wraith weaved through the soldiers, emitting an eerie noise.

With a sinister sound akin to a snake slithering, the soldiers began to collapse one by one.

“Aaargh!”

“Nooo!”

The priests were horrified. No matter how much divine power they unleashed, they couldn’t disperse the wraith’s presence.

“A w-wraith!”

“My god! Is he a high-level necromancer capable of summoning such a powerful spirit?”

***

On a hill overlooking the mountain pass, two figures watched the battle unfold. Concealed in the darkness were Karnak and Varos.

“Good grief, he’s rampaging like a wild beast.”

Unlike the terrified priests, Karnak wore an expression of disdain.

A high-level necromancer capable of summoning a wraith? Hardly.

“That guy doesn’t even know the first thing about necromancy.”

If he were a proper necromancer, he would have summoned the wraith efficiently using precise incantations and rituals.

But this guy had merely poured raw dark power into it, barely managing to summon one.

“Well, this is why necromancy is such an easy way to gain power.”

A mage couldn’t cast spells without precise incantations and proper control.

Just pouring raw magical energy into a spell? It would result in nothing but wasted energy.

There would be no spell activation, and no effects whatsoever. Knowledge and wisdom were absolutely necessary.

But necromancy was different.

Even if one brutishly forced out necromantic energy while gritting their teeth, they could still achieve some results—albeit with terrible efficiency.

Moreover, the summoned wraith itself wouldn’t be any different.

Whether a brute used up all their power to inefficiently summon it or a powerful necromancer summoned it with precise efficiency, the wraith itself would be the same.

‘So, in terms of raw necromantic energy, is he stronger than me right now?’

Beside him, Varos cautiously asked, “What will you do, young master? They’ve discovered him before us.”

“I suppose we did send some overly competent guides, didn’t we?”

Originally, the plan was to quietly secure the necromancer before the Lathiel Church could get to him.

But the soldiers borrowed from Zestrad had been unexpectedly capable, setting up an effective trap and luring the necromancer in.

“If they capture him as is, won’t that be troublesome?”

“It’s not a huge problem, but...”

What if that necromancer is captured by the church?

We could use the authority of a lord to arrange a brief interrogation.

What if the necromancer dies on the spot?

We could use necromancy to summon his dead spirit and interrogate it.

Even if things go awry, there are ways to handle the situation.

But the easiest option would be to secure him ourselves and interrogate him at our leisure in a safe location.

A moment later, Varos’s eyes gleamed.

“Look at that! He’s running away. I guess even with a wraith, he’s not a match for them.”

In the distance, Fred could be seen fleeing in the opposite direction, having unleashed the wraith to cover his escape.

“This makes things easier.”

Karnak nodded slightly.

“Let’s move as well.”